


Different Kind of Daddy

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Daddy Kink, F/M, No Plot/Plotless, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Self-Insert, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24757363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: After a rough day, Reader has good news for her husband.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 277
Collections: Dr. Reid/ MGG





	Different Kind of Daddy

There were so many days when Spencer was able to leave his work behind when he crossed the threshold of our home. In fact, if you don’t look too hard, most days you might miss the weight of the hundreds of people he wasn’t able to save hanging on his shoulders.

Today was not one of those days.

As soon as my boyfriend crossed the threshold, I felt the pain clinging to him like a stubborn shadow. Normally, I might have had a few different ideas to help him, but he didn’t even seem interested in those at the moment.

He didn’t even seem to register that I was sitting in the room, watching him with my concern trying to cut through the darkness shrouding him. He made a beeline to the kitchen table, dropping his things before walking to the liquor cabinet.

“Hey, love,” I tested the words quietly, noticing the slight jump he gave at the sudden realization that he had missed my presence in the room.

“Hey,” he said with a single heavy exhale that told me more than any words would have, anyway. It had to have been a bad case. The kind he couldn’t even talk to me about. I hated those. So did he.

But that was okay; I didn’t need to talk to him about it today. Because I had my own little secret for him, and it was the kind that was so much better shared with physicality.

I glided over to him, the lightness in my step strongly contrasting the darkness. I hoped that I could ward it away, even just for a moment.

At first, he just offered me a single armed embrace. But once my face was buried in his chest, he abandoned the brandy, wrapping both arms around me and pulling me as close to him as possible.

His muscles were already beginning to relax, his lungs filling with the clean smell of fresh laundry and soap rather than the death and blood he’d been surrounded by.

“God,” he murmured into my hair, “I missed you so much, little girl.”

“I missed you more,” I mumbled back.

“I doubt that very much.”

Not ready to spoil my surprise, I didn’t correct him yet. Instead, I ran my hands up and down his back underneath his suit jacket.

“Skip the drink tonight. Come to bed with me now.” 

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem as excited about the idea as I’d hoped. His hand fell heavily on my arm as he created distance between us. He took a deep breath before his hand landed back on the cup.

“I don’t think I could sleep if I wanted to. Which… I do.”

It physically hurt to see him suffering like this, and I couldn’t blame him for choosing the drink when he looked so downtrodden. I knew there was something I could do to help, but a deeply insecure part of myself was also scared of ruining my news by sharing it with such an apparently horrible thought.

“I wasn’t thinking about sleeping.” I cheekily admitted, earning an amused half-smile, at least. I could practically hear his thoughts that were written across his face as he was trying to figure out how to reject his very cute girlfriend who was practically begging him to sleep with her.

“I’m sorry. It’s not you. I just…” He paused, “It’s hard for me to think about… anything right now. I just want to forget.”

He downed his drink within a couple seconds, pouring himself another at a troubling rate. More insistently now, I hoisted myself up on the counter next to his cup, scooting closer to his hands.

“What if I gave you something more fun to remember?” I tried to make it sound sexy, but my unease and secrecy foiled any plan to trick him. Still, he chose to pay more attention to me than his drink.

Sliding his hand up my thigh, he quickly found the edge of my nightgown. Not letting the fabric stop him in any sense, he continued on his path up my hip and around my lower back.

Breathing in the scent of my freshly applied perfume, he sighed against my ear. “I’m not doubting your talents, little girl, but it’d have to be something pretty extreme to distract me right now.”

I laid feather light kisses against the side of his jaw, enjoying the way his stubble prickled against my lips. He smiled, humming at the gentle attention.

“I have an idea,” I whispered to him. He turned to me slowly, slipping his other arm under my dress, pulling me flush against him on the counter.

“What is it?”

“How would you feel… about making love—“ As soon as the words left my mouth, he had already started pulling back. I huffed, grabbing his arms and yanking him back to his position between my legs.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s been a while, I just don’t think I can treat you like you deserve right now.” The shame lacing his words made me feel terrible. I was just trying to be cute while he was clearly struggling with something deeper than I was able to help with.

But I hoped that would change soon.

“I wasn’t finished talking yet, Spencer. Be _patient_.”

“Okay,” he placated, a small smile while he brought our faces closer together, “Sorry. Continue.”

“Like I was _saying_ …” I began, sliding my hands up his chest and onto his shoulders before I bit down on my lip. He glanced down at it, a distant arousal clear in his eyes.

“How would you feel about making love… with the mother of your child?”

It took him a moment to absorb my words, and I wasn’t sure which part of him responded first. His eyes widened enough to showcase the way his pupils immediately dilated. His jaw hung open, his chest freezing in place as his lungs forgot how to work.

“What?” He mumbled, backing up ever so slightly to look me in my face more clearly, his hands losing all tension, which seemed to rise straight to his chest.

I couldn’t manage to say anything, my mouth opening just to share small, bubbly giggles.

“Are you serious?” Spencer’s voice was already cracking, his hands now frantically grabbing me again, his eyes darting all over my face to try and catch any sign of deception.

Still speechless, I nodded, biting down on my lip to try and contain the excited screams I wished I could share.

Quietly, almost under his breath, he asked once more to clarify, “You’re… You’re pregnant?”

I nodded once again, this time with my whole body bouncing, and immediately, Spencer practically enveloped me in a hug. The force with which he embraced me nearly knocked me off the counter, and I laughed more wholeheartedly at his quickened breath against my neck.

“Oh my god. When did you find out?!” He was practically shouting in my ear, one of his hands coming up to cradle my head. I wasn’t sure if he was avoiding looking at me because he was in shock, or if it was because he was trying to hide the tears I could hear in his voice.

“Today. I didn’t want you to get your hopes up in case it was negative but…”

He pulled back, a stupid, toothy smile starkly contrasting the bags under his eyes. Just watching me for a long moment, I could feel him dedicating this moment to memory. He would play it back in his head a million times.

“You’re pregnant.” The words felt foreign and thrilling, “W-with… _my_ child.”

“Yes,” I rasped, pulling his arm back so that I could bring his hand to my still flat stomach. It wouldn’t look like that for much longer. “You’re going to be a different kind of daddy now, Spencer Reid.”

Any other words were quickly swallowed by the heated open mouthed kiss he immediately planted on my lips. I let out a soft moan at the hunger in his hands, which were now pawing desperately underneath my nightgown and in my hair.

My back arched so far I nearly lifted myself off the counter, my body drawn to him like we were made of magnets. It took mere seconds for his hand to find its way to my bottom, grabbing a handful and pulling me forward to press against his erection now straining against his pants.

So much for him not being in the mood.

“Take me to our bedroom,” I growled, my nails dragging over the back of his neck while I wrapped my legs around him. He didn’t make me say it twice, nearly tossing me over his shoulder within no time at all.

I was laughing again, trying to enjoy what it felt like for him to carry me so effortlessly before he wouldn’t be able to do it again for awhile. But it was okay, I reminded myself, because I would get to see him carrying our child in his arms, instead.

Once we reached the room, he wasted no time, gently laying me down on the bed and pressing a long, hard kiss against my lips before he stood back up.

At first, I started to sit up to follow him, but he shot me one of those glances that told me he had _plans_ for me.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. “You stay just like that.”

With more force than necessary, he was tearing his tie from his neck, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and littering the ground with his clothes.

In a matching state of undress, he climbed onto the bed but stopped at my waist. His mouth started at my belly button and then began on a downward trek.

“What are you doing?” I asked, despite having my own guesses.

Spencer didn’t give me a straightforward response, his tongue darting between his lips with each kiss, leaving a trail in his wake. At the same time, he began to work my underwear down my legs.

“I think you know what I’m doing.” He locked eyes with me once he tossed the flimsy cotton to the side, his hand cupping the area it used to cover.

I audibly gasped when his finger slipped past my folds, making quick work to spread my wetness over his fingers. He returned his own groan at the sensation before he buried his face in the very same place.

When he dragged his tongue over my opening, his fingers beginning to unhurriedly thrust in and out of me, I couldn’t contain the throaty moans. Spencer seemed to appreciate the feedback.

My hands found their way to his hair, and I was suddenly grateful for the length that he’d grown out. It provided the perfect handle for me to hold him down against me while his tongue carried out its mission to touch every inch of me possible.

“Spencer,” I choked, “Don’t stop.”

His pace quickened as if to tell me that he wasn’t ever planning on it. His fingers began to drag against my walls with each movement, his mouth closing over my clit while his tongue was anything but still.

The lewd noises coming from between my legs drove me insane. It’d been weeks since Spencer had touched me, and even then it had been hurried and tired. This, though, was positively electric.

And I knew he felt it, too, because when my legs started to apply pressure to the sides of his head, he didn’t even try to stop them. His free hand gripped my hip, holding me down so that I couldn’t buck into his mouth.

But it didn’t stop my body from trying, seeking the last bit it needed to find release. Sensing how close I was, Spencer performed the impossible task of moving faster, harder, and with even more precision.

Wrecked by muscle spasms, my lower body lifted off the bed as I screamed out to him. He didn’t let it distract him; continuing to pump his fingers in and out of me even when my body struggled to try to keep him inside.

The moan he muffled against me did _not_ help, and for a moment I was concerned I would devolve into a second orgasm within a matter of seconds.

Thankfully, my body held out long enough for me to rip Spencer away. I didn’t want to be too tired when he finally decided to take me.

“Please, come here,” I weakly called, practically whimpering at the erotic sight of his chin wet with my juices while he struggled to catch his breath.

He obeyed my request without any hesitation, wiping his face with the back of his hand before sharing his tongue with me. The heady scent of myself on him only served to further my longing. I wondered what it would take before our bodies would cease to exist without the other.

With a hard swallow, he separated the two of us and dragged my nightgown over my head. Then, just as quickly, his mouth had attached to my breast, his hand lovingly kneading the other.

There were no words shared, but I knew why he was spending so much time on them. His tongue circled the pebbled peak, biting down lightly on it. Now much more sensitive, my hands were back in his hair while I sobbed out mangled versions of his name.

 _This body_ , he was saying, _will carry and raise my children_.

 _And I will love it like it deserves_.

Swapping sides, my body began to writhe in the overwhelming, general pleasure I derived from his shared presence. I felt like I would drown in him. Once my nipples were kissed sore, I tore him away from my body again, looking at him with my flushed, wanton expression.

“Please,” I begged, “Please fuck me.”

That dark, possessive smile that always signaled my end spread across his face. Clearly, it was the request he’d been waiting for. Without breaking eye contact, he lined himself up, gently rubbing the head of his erection against my entrance.

“It’s a good thing you’re already pregnant.” His voice was a whisper, but the force behind the words was enough to carry them through the narrowing space between us. “Because if you weren’t, you definitely would be by the end of the night.”

A guttural moan tore from my chest when he abruptly thrust forward, stretching me open all at once. My fingernails raked across his back, earning a satisfied yet pained grunt from the man above me.

He thrusted with twice as much force in retaliation, smiling when my body shook around him. “Even when you’re already pregnant, your body is still begging me to fill you up.”

It was almost a laugh, the way he spoke. “It’s like you were made to take this fucking cock and give me children.”

“Mm, yes, Daddy.” The words slipped from my lips by instinct; I hadn’t even considered the new implication. Because now I wasn’t the only one who would call him daddy.

Spencer noticed it, though.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he nearly shouted, slamming into me and clenching his eyes shut, “Say that again.”

“Yes, _Daddy_ ,” I answered with more of a moan than words. The sounds served their purpose nonetheless, with him propping himself up against the headboard. He grabbed hold of my hips, raising them so that each thrust would cause him to bottom out inside of me.

“You like making me a daddy, little girl?” He asked, not really expecting an answer now that my head was thrown back among the pillows. With each thrust he pushed impossibly deeper into me, reminding me just how eager he was to knock me up in the first place.

“Yes,” I breathed, gripping the sheets to try and tether me to the world.

“You ready to carry my child? For everyone to see who you belong to?”

“ _Yes_!” I yelled now, my hips jerking up each time he filled me. “I’m yours. I want them to _know_ I’m yours.”

The words had more of an effect on him than I was expecting, and his hips were faltering, his thrusts becoming jagged and longer. I could see the concentration in the sweat forming on his brow, his breath shallow and hard.

“ ** _Mine_** ,” he growled as he gave one final, forceful thrust, pulling me against him. “You’re _mine_.”

The nice thing about this stage of pregnancy was that everything seemed so much more sensitive. I swore I could feel his fucking pulse, mixing together with my own as he filled me with his seed.

Despite the fact I was already pregnant, my body still clung to him desperately, my walls fluttering around him as my eyes struggled to remain focused on the euphoric expression Spencer was giving me as he lost himself in the way our bodies combined.

He collapsed forward, nearly crushing me under his weight as he struggled to prop himself up on his arms. We’d gotten so caught up in the moment that I almost forgot that he’d knocked back two glasses of brandy after a 9 hour flight home.

Poor thing was exhausted— that much was obvious in the way he clumsily pulled out and flopped onto his side, trying to breathe in all the air he hadn’t been able to take since we started.

The first thing he said caught me off guard, but it really shouldn’t have. Because as he laid there with a mystified stare aimed at the ceiling, there was still only one thing on his mind.

“I’m going to be a dad.”

“Yeah,” I smiled, “You are.”

He turned to me, equal parts terrified and excited. I did what any good girlfriend would do, and tried to comfort him by lazily draping my arm around him and pressing a light kiss against his cheek.

“I’ll finally be able to call you daddy in public without people thinking I’m weird.” I laughed, settling into my space curled up next to him, our arms wrapped together. “Although, you’ll also have a toddler calling you that, so. Might steal my thunder.”

Spencer laughed, grabbing my hand that rested against his chest and squeezing it with all the energy he had left.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered with a small smile, “You’ll always be Daddy’s little girl to me.”


End file.
